14 Juillet: A never ending nightmare
by Ashry 42
Summary: [Historical Fanfic] France has been having these ongoing nightmares the night just before his birthday. But what if they weren't nightmares... What if they were truly happening? [France x Girl Reader]


_**Disclaimer**__: I do not own Hetalia. It rightfully belongs to it's owner Hidekaz Himaruya. I am not trying to make profit out of it. Just practicing my writing skills with my favorite manga !_

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Terrified cries, excited yells and sudden explosive noises echoed through France's ears. Fire was blazing everywhere you looked. Sudden bursts of loud noises followed by gunshots detonated one after the other as if replying to each other. It was complete and utter chaos.

France sprang upright, sweating, his breathing coming in short and rapid rasps. He anxiously looked around, making sure of his surroundings. When he realized he was actually in bed at home, he let out a sigh of relieve. Yet, his dream lingered in his mind. He'd been having that same dream every year on the same night. He glanced at the calendar; it read "14 Juillet". Then he glanced out the window. It was pitched black out. So he knew it was still the night from the 13th to the 14th of July.

(Name) slowly sat up in bed next to him and gave him a reassuring rub on the back, watching his face closely. He held a sullen expression with bags under his eyes, yet his eyes were wide open, his pupils dilated in terror, like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Nightmare?" (Name) asked, still rubbing his back.

Francis slowly turned towards her, his eyebrows knitted in worry.

"It's ok." (Name) reassured, giving him a peck on the cheek. "It's not real, it's just a dream."

_That's where you're wrong… _Francis thought, his expression darkening. He'd been having the same type of dream, but each year a few details changed. Yet he knew these dreams were special. Unlike humans, when nations dream on important events it was usually actually happening somewhere in their territory. In this case, he knew it was happening in Paris right this instant. He would ordinarily try to ignore it, not wanting to face this threat, but each year this "dream" became more and more prominent until finally it was practically unbearable.

_I need to go see this for myself_, he thought and threw off the covers. He quickly got up, and started getting dressed.

"Where are you going?" (Name) inquired warily, a feeling of anxiety slowly creeping into her chest. She slowly got out of bed to face Francis.

"I have to make sure of something." He replied, putting on his pants. "I need you to stay here. Don't go out!" He warned her as he slipped on a shirt.

"Why? Where are you going?" (Name) asked in a louder voice.

He finished putting on his shoes and coat and snatched his keys. Just before opening the door he turned towards (Name), his expression very serious. "Don't try to follow me!" And with that he left, slamming the door behind him in hurry.

"What? What's gotten into him!" (Name) blurred out, more worried than angry. She had never seen him in such a nervous and restless state before.

She went to the balcony and watched Francis run down the street. After a few minutes of pacing around the house, she finally decided she would follow him. She quickly got dressed, and on the way down she took her bicycle before heading off in the direction Francis took.

France was running down the street without slowing his pace. Flashes of his dream rushed through his mind, and a dreadful feeling came over him. _Please don't let there be any deaths, _he silently prayed.

After about an hour of running he ended up in a street that was pitched black. He slowed his stride to a walk. After taking a few steps into this dark street, he realized that it wasn't just the street that was dark; it was the whole neighborhood. He took a few wary steps down the abandoned street.

"Francis!" He heard someone call. He immediately turned around, wondering who could have called him here, and was surprised to end up face to face with (Name).

"What are you doing here?" He scolded, as he walked up to her. "I told you to stay home!"

"You left without an explanation." She jumped off her bicycle and walked over to him. "I was worried about you."

"You shouldn't be here…" He said, his eyes full of fear. "It's dangerous."

"You didn't tell me that it was dangerous." (Name) replied back. She went to place her bicycle near a poll and walked over to Francis calmly looking back into his ocean blue orbs. "Now tell me, why did you come here?"

_She doesn't believe me when I say it's dangerous_, he thought, then sighed. "Now that you're here… follow me. But stay close." He grabbed (Name)'s hand and slowly walked down the silent street.

After only a few feet they took a right turn into another street and there they immediately stopped walking, gapping at what was in front of them: there stood three balls of blazing fire.

"Are those… trashcans?" (Name) questioned.

Those three balls were in fact three trashcans melting in the fire.

"Wh-what's going on?" (Name) inquired, her voice sounding a little shaky.

"I don't know." France replied. He started walking forwards again. They went past the burning trashcans and continued to penetrate the dark silent street. All the lights were completely out, and France regretted not brining a flashlight with him.

"Why are the lights out?" (Name) asked. "Did they break down?" She tightened her grip on France's hand and moved closer to him.

"No." France said, sounding gloomy, which caused (Name) to give him a questioning look. "The lights were turned off on purpose. They've done this to the whole neighborhood."

That statement sent a shiver run down (Name)'s spine. "Why would they do such a thing?" She whispered as they continued to walk.

Suddenly, a big loud boom could be heard, which made (Name) jump.

"What was that?" She squeaked, practically gluing herself to Francis.

"It's just fireworks." France stated. _Although they sound awfully close… _He thought.

France walked off the street, still gripping (Name)'s hand, and decided to walk on the sidewalk instead, close to the buildings. "Stay behind me." He murmured. (Name) nodded. They were getting close to the edge of the building.

Suddenly another loud noise blew out very close by, and a burst of flames flashed right in front of him. He instinctively jumped backwards, bumping into (Name); his eyes, however, kept on following that flame of fire, which ended up crashing into a tree.

(Name) let out a gasp. "The tree!" she screeched. "It's on fire!"

Immediately another burst of flame shot out and burnt another tree. Laughing could be heard each time a tree caught fire.

"What's happening?" (Name) cried out. But France was too distracted to answer her. He rushed forward to try and see what was happening. His eyes darted back and forth, trying to comprehend everything that was going on. He vaguely saw shadows of people standing here and there. The building standing opposite of him was completely destroyed; the glass door was shattered into pieces and the walls had holes in them. Smoke from the burning trees reached his nose, and he quickly clasped a hand over his mouth with one hand, his other arm wrapped protectively around (Name)'s shoulders as she pressed herself against his chest.

Just then sirens could be heard. He turned his head and saw police cars coming towards them. The cars had to stop at the edge of the street because it was blocked by the burning trashcans. Policemen poured out of the cars and briskly marched down the street towards the commotion that was happening ahead. More booming firework noises could be heard close by. _Are the fireworks getting closer?_ France wondered.

The police had finally reached the end of the road. Gunshots could be heard mixing with the noise of the fireworks. _The are definitely more fireworks now, _France thought. But this time they weren't being shot in the air, they were being shot straight at the policemen! _Mon Dieu!_ France thought in complete shock. The people (whom he couldn't see well because they were still in the shadows) were trying to burn the policemen by shooting fireworks at them, just like they had burnt the trees. (Name) was also watching the scene in complete horror.

Suddenly, one of the policemen did get hit by the flames, and at the same time another policemen shot one of the people with the fireworks.

"No!" (Name) let out a wail before burying her face into France's chest while he held her into a protective hug.

It was a deadly battle with guns and flames shooting from everywhere; it was chaos. There were cries, and yells, and explosive noises all around. _Just like in my dream_, he thought.

All of a sudden a policeman came up to them. "Ne rester pas là, venez avec moi." (Don't stay there, come with me.) He instructed, guiding them away from the battlefield.

"Rentrez chez vous." (Go home) The policemen instructed. "C'est dangereux ici." (It's dangerous here.)

"Oui. On va rentrer." (Yes. We'll go home.) France affirmed, then he glanced at (Name) as she quietly went to retrieve her bicycle before they silently walked back home, both lost in thought about what they had just witnessed.

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**Historical data**

_"Le 14 Juillet" is a French national holiday established by law in 1880, in reference to a double date: that of July 14, 1789, which is the date of the taking of the Bastille, a symbolic day causing the end of absolute monarchy, followed by the end of the society of orders and privileges. And that of 14 July 1790, which is the day of national unity during the Fête de la Fédération._

_However, lately is has become something completely different. The streets of some neighborhoods have been going havoc, causing destruction. And each year it gets worse._

_This story is based off a true story. A friend of mine has told me that a few years ago his neighborhood was barricaded by a ring of fire all around the streets. No one could enter or leave the neighborhood. And people were throwing fireworks in all directions. At some point the police came and a big fight erupted. Fortunately there weren't any deaths, but there were still injuries._

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_**AN:** I know this is a little late (the 14 is long past us); I'm sorry I didn't post it on the 14th. (I could have, since I finished writing it on the 13th.) But I wasn't paying much attention to Fanfiction this past couple of weeks (for personal reasons). _

_With this story, I wanted to pay a little tribute to France._

_Reviews are always welcomed. Tell me what you thought about it._

_I also invite you to have a look at my other Historical fanfic (The Seven Years' War). _


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